Help Wanted
by zephywolfgirl
Summary: When a girl from Reno arrives in Missing Mile with a mysterious connestion to the twins, how is she going to affect the lives of Ghost and Steve? Will they help her avenge murder?
1. Chp 1 new orleans and vampires

Dawn broke uneasily, as if afraid that its gray pale and milky light would disturb any occupants in the bus station. Peeping over the jagged, smelly pines and sighing, leafy willows, the sun made its presence slowly, never truly revealing its form just its light. Here in the bus station just outside New Orleans, only two occupants were slumbering, slowly stirring to the light. The clerk there was a withered old man with thin hair growing from his ears and chin, sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest, swiveling neck hanging his head low. He sat on a brown stool against the wall. The night before he had worked too late and hadn't the energy to drive home. The buses weren't due to arrive until eight anyway. The old man smelled like the station; dusty and sterilized with stingy chemicals, like a gym floor. Curled up in a hard plastic green chair was a girl about nineteen, her features hidden in her thick, leather jacket. Her legs, clothed in knee-torn jeans, were curled to her chest and half flung over the armrest. The heavy black jacket provided excellent warmth, despite the fact that it was near spring and hot. The air in the place was thick with dust particles and warmth. The top of her head was a dark red brown, straight and thick. The bell in the station rang out the time: 5:00 am.  
Startled the girl looked up from her arms and breathed a heavy sigh. Uncurling from the uncomfortable chair she stretched her arms to the ceiling and clenched her fingers, imagining that she could actually hold the air. Her face was fairly square, still clinging to its childish curves. Her rather heavy but good eyebrows were always frowned in thought, as if she constantly pondered something. Deep brown eyes, the color of hot chocolate or fudge, seemed to gleam with sadness, pain and care, selflessness. Under all that pain was a shine of loving care, happiness. She possessed a fairly pretty upturned nose, not too over done or hideous. Under that nose were full lips, having their own pink-red color and old smiles tucked into the corners, set above a rather rebellious chin. Reaching into a deep pocket in her jacket the girl pulled out a pack of Camel Lights and opened it. Shit, only three left. She was trying to teach herself to smoke, she could use the relief. Putting a stick between her lips she dug about for her red plastic lighter. She cast a glance at the grimy clock hanging above a window. Bus'll be here in a few hours, she thought dimly. Not finding her wallet which had her lighter, she patted her front down.  
"What the hell?" she whispered in slight panic. Frantically searching her clothes and black backpack she began to freak out. Her wallet was gone! It had her fucking money, her tickets, her lighter, ids, everything! Someone must've stole it on the bus last night. Heaving a sigh of disgust she flung her hands up and began to mutter.  
"Great, that's fucking great!" she grumbled heatedly, getting up and stretching her stiff legs. Glancing over at the sleeping old man she pondered. It was useless to try to beg for reason. People didn't care. She couldn't go back to Reno; there was no one there. Thanks to them. But she had to get to New Orleans, no matter what.  
Quietly flinging her light bag over her shoulder she headed out the door, letting it slam and wake the clerk. Shivering in anticipation she began walking down the empty highway. Her name was Charley Dirk Wolf. Yeah, she was named after a sword and her last name was Wolf. Big fucking whoop! She couldn't remember the last time someone hadn't made fun of her name.  
To be completely honest, she loved her name. Charley was a boy name; so what? Dirk was a sword, sharp and fast. That and her spirit animal was a wolf. So it kind of fit her. For a few hours Charley walked toward New Orleans, sticking her thumb out to passing cars. No one bothered to stop. Keeping her headset on, blaring Seether, she hummed the venomous words, vaguely wondering what would happen if she couldn't get to New Orleans by night. She didn't mind the night, but they could get her faster that way. That couldn't happen.  
"You fuckin' jackass!" she howled at a passing red Intrepid as it sped dangerously close, nearly nailing the girl. She shook her fist at the driver. "Watch where your going!" The driver stuck his arm out the window, parading his middle finger. Anger boiling over Charley stomped her foot and yelled obscenities at the world. Growling she stormed down the road, not bothering to signal for a ride. Near midday, when it was quite hot and she had to take off her jacket, exposing her large chest under a thin dirty shirt, a truck finally pulled over. It was an old Ford, a rusted gray color with a broken tail light. Trotting up Charley flung her bag in the grungy back then wrestled the door open. Crawling in she closed the door and ran a hand through her thick, tangled hair. "Where're ya headed?" asked a rough, Carolinian voice. Charley turned to the voice and smiled automatically. Charms win all. The driver was a backwoods hick, that was apparent. He had straw like hair, dusty blonde, and dull blue eyes. Wearing a red flannel shirt and overalls smeared in dirt, he had a bent neck that exposed his Adam's apple largely. How gross…  
"New Orleans"  
"A'right. Need a bit o' payment though." He was reaching for his belt.  
Charley was about to ask what the hell he was talking about but shut her mouth. It popped in her head and frankly the idea disgusted her. But she had to get there. The car smelled of cows and car oil, a gross mix. Stomach turning, Charley swallowed some spit, wetting her suddenly dry throat. Whatever it takes…

A couple hours later Charley was keeled over a tin garbage can, retching dry throws. Long before she had puked out the man's thick, bitter come that had settled in her stomach. But she was in New Orleans and that's all that mattered. Wiping the sick webbing that was now on her lips off Charley straightened and grabbed her backpack. Other tourists stared at her as they skittered to the side, not wanting to smell her vomit. Slinging the bag over her shoulder the girl walked down the street as the sun began to set, not knowing where she was going. Bourbon Street had a myriad of smells that were utterly foreign to the western girl from Nevada. Brown fishy smells of oysters and the Mississippi river and the gassy, alcoholic smell of beer. And something green, fiery and burning green. It settled her upset stomach greatly but made her really hungry.  
Digging through her bag Charley brought out a bag of honey roasted peanuts and dug through it, finding a few nuts and sugary grains at the bottom. Devouring them quickly she only made herself hungrier. Tossing the bag back into her pack she sighed. Where was she going to go? She had no idea where they would be.  
Slumping down against a flaky brick wall Charley buried her head in her arms on top of her knees, trying to squish her hunger pains. Maybe she'd sleep here; probably be raped and butchered. Oh well. A loud car passed by, blaring music. Charley wasn't going to even look up until she realized that the car had stopped in front of her.  
Peeking up to the blood-red light she spotted a large black van on the road, waiting. Two heads leered at her from the front and passenger seat, both with dread-locked dark hair and faces framed in black makeup. They had studs and chains, collars. Standing up as the door slid open Charley stared. There was a young boy, about fifteen or so, kneeling there, giving her a shy, intrigued smile, wearing a raincoat lined in purple. He had black sheaved hair, obviously dyed and eyeliner. His dark blue eyes were welcoming and warm.  
"Hey, you gotta place to go?" He asked politely. Charley shook her head, still staring at the grinning faces in the front seat and the sweet boy in the back. She could see the graffiti on the walls of the van, garbage spread everywhere and a stained mattress in the back. The boy smiled again.  
"You can hang with us. We got some drinks," he offered suggestively. The two in the front hooted their agreement. Giving a shrug Charley grabbed her bag and clambered in. Immediately she realized the smell of weed and something meaty, bloody. The door closed behind her, sealing the girl in. With a nice smile, the boy took her bag and set it next to the mattress, sat down and patted the spot next to him. The van started again and drove off as she crawled over. Looking about she noticed the two were smacking each other playfully, tugging on each others hair and ears. "I'm Nothing and those two are Molochai and Twig," the boy said, pointing first to himself then to the passenger, who was eating a Ho-Ho, then to the driver who was swigging a wine bottle. Charley excepted the bottle from Twig as he handed it back. Taking a large gulp she felt her stomach turn. Oh, she was hungry.  
"I'm Charley, from Reno"  
Molochai tossed a package of Twinkies to the girl, seeing her hungry look then grinned.  
"Ah, a cowgirl…tasty"  
"Mmm, delectable"  
The two of them burst into insane cackling and giggling then fell to slapping each other again. Charley was quite perturbed; was that a good thing they just said? Munching on the Twinkies she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Nothing held out a little piece of paper, smirking secretively. "Try some"  
"Okay, thanks," sticking the paper in her mouth she felt it dissolve on her tongue. Instantly she felt an odd tingling in her nerves and felt her stomach flip pleasantly. The graffiti seemed to swim and dance in front of her. Presently she became aware of the fact that the van had stopped and that Molochai and Twig were on the mattress, slipping hands through each others hair and under their clothes, mouths sloppily locked. Mind fuzzed she mumbled something incoherent as Nothing firmly pushed her down.  
"Got to find…the…vampires," she groaned weakly before the boy kissed her sweetly. A moment later he pulled away and looked down into her sad brown eyes.  
"The vampires?" he repeated vaguely, obviously tripping out. Charley shifted easily under his thin frame and light weight. Molochai and Twig were looking down at her, confusedly. Too messed up to readily care if they knew, Charley nodded sluggishly and began to giggle at the stupidity of what she was going to say.  
"Yep, kill'd my family. My lil' sis' and brother, mum an' da. Sucked'em dry of everythin': al' tha' was left was husks 'n' skeletons," she explained quite lightly, choking with laughter. Snorting a laugh she rolled her head about, looking up at the dancing graffiti. Her accent floated back to its rough Nevadan self as the drug took over her voice. "Ya're probab'y thinkin', 'Psh, yeah! Vamps! Whatisshesmokin'?' Right! Gawd, I've got no idea wha' I'm doin' or where the 'ell they are or ain't!" with a snorting bout of laughter Charley began crying at the hopelessness of it all. Nothing crawled off of her on her right, Molochai and Twig on her left. Rubbing her face and smearing the heavy black makeup she choked a sob.  
"Fuckin' vamps kill'd'em. 'N' now I gotta get'em, those damn'd twins! Gonna kill'em? Right...like I could kill a vamp!" she bitched venomously, the acid making her angry and reckless. Sitting up she glared at the mattresses tattered end. "Not normal vamps either. They suck your soul and beauty. I could give a flying fuck about the blood suckers, hell, I'd probably join'em if I could. I gotta get those twins"  
Towards the end of her speech she gained control of her voice and brought it down and stopped the tears. Molochai and Twig looked at her darkly, exchanging suspicious and dangerous looks. Nothing gazed at her in extreme pity and in bemusement. "What? You don't believe me, do you?" Charley asked, a bit dejectedly and angrily. No one else did when she told them. Being away at college she heard the news a week after the murder. At the morgue she saw the bodies, twisted and thin, flaking away and crumbling to nothing but clean bone. A witness said she saw two boys, both overly gorgeous in silks, hair the color of brittle fire and sunny gold, enter the apartment. The apartment security cameras proved this true. With a freeze frame she studied them, with the fuzzy feeling of recognition. Finally she remembered, weeks later. An ad had been placed about two singers in New Orleans. They matched the description but it wasn't enough for an arrest. Still determined to destroy them Charley studied vamps in her books and used all her money to get to the city. But she had no idea what she was going to do now that she was here. Where to start? Where will she stay? "Oh, no. We believe you," Nothing assured her gently, thoughts lost and eyes unfocused. "More than you think," Molochai added then gave her a menacing grin, showing his chocolate webbed sharpened teeth. Twig grinned too, both of them obviously a little crazy. For a moment or two Charley stared at the two, still too messed up to really understand. Why did they have sharp teeth? Did it have something to do with the meaty smell? For some reason it just wasn't making any connection. "Tasty cowgirl"  
When they whispered that hungrily it clicked. They're vampires! Vampires! Completely off guard Charley scrambled to get on her feet but the two grabbed her wrists. With unbelievable strength they yanked down and snapped her body back to the dirty mattress like a bag of potatoes. Weakly the girl thrashed, whimpering and growling, flailing her legs and thrusting her chest away from them. They just watched like amused predators, waiting and playing with helpless prey.  
Straddling her and taking hold of both of her wrists Twig sneered down at her, his sharp eyes like two shards of black glass. Molochai was tugging off her tennis shoes, growling and laughing lustily. Trying to kick her legs Charley limply let Twig take hold of her wrists in one big hand then snake the other to her shirts rim. Cool, rather sticky hands glided up the skin of her stomach then stopped. Too weary from the drug and the messes that have happened, the girl gave a dry sob and closed her eyes. The weight shifted off her waist and the clasp on her belt was fumbled with. Roughly her pants were yanked off her legs, exposing her white cotton panties. Faintly she heard a whispered argument and nearly opened her brown eyes. Then she felt warm, thin hands tug on her dirty shirts rim, lightly dragging it over her head. Giving no resistance she sobbed quietly as it was gently wrestled off her. Her hands were let go of but she didn't move. She was going to die, that's all there was to it. Why struggle?  
Vaguely there was a warm silky weight on her body, pressed against her, light touches fluttering over her sensitive nerves. Choking a scream Charley wrenched her head to the side as fingertips danced on her cheeks.  
"Charley, listen," Nothing's voice breathed into her ear softly. "I know someone who might help you. We will take you to him tomorrow night. But we're hungry, very hungry. We'll help you, but we need you to feed us. Trust me, we won't hurt you too badly"  
"Wha-whatever it takes," Charley choked in weak resignation, not even thinking about it. It seemed to have become her mantra. A light chuckle tickled her hair near her ears. Gentle kisses were placed upon her jaw line to her chin. Finally Nothing pressed a shy kiss as he easily unhooked her bra.

(Dirty scene here. Email me for full version)

The night passed away slowly, the vampires feeding off the drugged girl and pleasuring her delicately. She kept enough wits about her to insist on no total sex and they eventually gave in. Charley fell asleep near five the next morning, pressed tightly between Twig and Nothing's nude bodies, the older vampire slinging an arm over her waist and hugging her to him, sucking on a light wound in her throat, Nothing licking a red crescent above her nipple. Molochai lay against Nothing, his hand playing in the boy's black hair and on his shoulders. They all drifted away on the green river of Chartreuse, soothing and fiery. 


	2. Chp 2 meeting two guys

When the girl awoke it was near sunset and the air was thick with the same meaty smell. Blood, she concluded. Laying in Nothing and Twig's entangled arms she wondered half curiously: how many people had they butchered back here? The thought frightened her greatly but she felt that it didn't matter. If they killed her she'd haunt them forever. As long as she got those twins. Who was this person who would help her? She thought dazedly as she watched the dust particles dance in the yellow light of streetlamps outside as the night deepened.  
About fifteen minutes later the others woke up and Molochai started driving out to the tiny town of Missing Mile, eager to finish what he started. In the back, Nothing made Charley take another hit of acid. She did gladly. This would probably be the last drug she ever took anyway. There were five bite marks on her, or at least that she could find. One on her inner thigh, on her right breast, in the crook of her elbow, on the left side of her neck and one right beneath her chest on her rib cage. They were still oozing blood. From out of her bag she pulled out a tight black turtleneck shirt and loose black pants. Slipping them on she combed her hair and put on fair layer of black eyeliner. It seemed all they had were sweets. Ho-Ho's, Twinkies, Bologna, McDonald's fries, beer, wine, half rotted chocolates. It went on. Not that she was complaining; she loved fat foods. The beer was cheap though. Laughing and playfully swatting each other they sped down the highway, often crossing the line and swerving. If Charley hadn't been so damn busy with the shit she'd have loved doing this all the time.  
Hours later, around 3:00 they arrived at the tiny town. They pulled over in front of a dark store called the Whirling Disk and shut off the engine. Sleepily they curled up together on the mattress, clutching each other, the girl and the three vampires, too tired from spending all night driving to kiss and bites. Smiling slightly Charley fell into a heavy slumber, quite drunk, warm between Twig and Molochai, their hands held over her waist.

All too soon Charley was shaken awake to a clear, cold dawn. Blinking sleepily the girl opened her mouth to complain about getting only four hours of sleep but was abruptly stopped. Nothing's hot mouth captured her own, still tasting morning and old beer, tongue silencing her. He was knelt above her, straddling her hips, keeping her still. Not quite used to being seduced first thing in the morning the girl lay there, wondering what she should do. Molochai and Twig were curled up together, the latter sucking the others fingers. Nothing pulled away, smiled and put a finger to her lips then to his. Crawling off he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. The sun had risen fully outside and the van had heated considerably. Pulling on her black tennis shoes Charley yawned quietly and crept over the two like a spider towards the door. Quietly Nothing opened the door, wincing at the slight grating noise, glancing over to the vampires. They slept soundly, oblivious.  
Charley choked a pained yell as she came out to extreme brightness. Nothing shut the door behind them. Shielding her eyes she dug about in her jacket for her sunglasses, cursing loudly. Nothing had been smart enough to put his own round glasses on before going out and smirked at her. Slinging her bag over her shoulder Charley grumbled and looked about. The town of Missing Mile was ridiculously small to the casino-fed girl. She had grown up in the middle of the biggest gambling city in America, besides Vegas. So many times she had to walk through downtown as a five-year-old, dodging prostitutes and choking on the exhaust of cars just to get home. The sky was always stained red or green from the filth and the sunsets were even bloodier, setting behind jagged giant mountains. There was never any green, just brown dirt and shrubs, gray concrete and cold metal bars to peer through from kindergarten windows. There was nothing to prepare her for this. It was green, green and more green. There were pines, kudzu, blackberry bushes and more than she could name. The sky seemed so much clearer, the clouds more fluffed and bouncy. For a moment Charley stared through the black lens of her glasses at all she felt she must have missed when she was younger. This was…beyond gorgeous. Even though the town was tiny compared to even the ghetto of downtown. There were mysterious little shops and boarded up stores. The sun had warmed the dew on the rich grass and hung in the air, making the shattered glass from a beer bottle glitter and shine. "Why did we leave?" Charley asked absently, still enthralled with the back round. Nothing looked up at her, being shorter by an inch. His eyes were dark and troubled, reflecting some yearning that Charley couldn't understand.  
"They wanted to kill you…tonight. The only reason they agreed to drive you here was because I told them they could," he explained lowly, seeming very ashamed. Charley started and shrank back. Superstitions about unbelievable strength came into her head. "You wanna kill me? I thought"  
"But! But I'm going to take you to Ghost and tell them you got away. They won't be too pissed. There are others out there," he continued soothingly. The girl felt a bit better but she wasn't sure about the last one. She was grateful that she wasn't going to die but the fact that others would dampened that ease. "Ghost? Who's Ghost? What can he do to help me"  
"I'm not exactly sure. I just got a feeling that he might help you with this," Nothing answered as they kept walking down the street, thoughtfully. Making their way toward the outskirts of the town, toward Burnt Church Road. It was a long walk but the day was warm and moist in a comfortable way, like a light blanket. There were plenty of old houses, with gardens and rusted swings in porches, overgrown gardens. Soon they came upon an old sturdy house that was set before a Civil war cemetery. The windows seemed to be hooded with curtains like peering eyes, one of the boarded shutters hanging loosely.  
At the gravel driveway Nothing stopped abruptly, looking up at the house with a loving but trepid filled face. Charley looked back at him, halfway up the driveway, worried and curious. Nothing shook his head sadly.  
"This is as far as I go. If I go up there they'll kill me…or at least Steve will," he said with a bitter half smile. "Just tell them that I sent you. Ghost'll help"  
Charley stared at him, totally worried and yet thankful. With a sad tiny smile she nodded.  
"Okay, thank you for everything. I could never have gotten here without you," she answered quietly, coming back down the driveway. Taking Nothing's cold hands in her own she brought them up to her lips and kissed the tips. Then she leaned over and kissed him sweetly.  
"Thank you"  
The young vampire watched her as she headed up the driveway and up the stairs, turning once to wave good-bye. He smiled slightly, sad that he couldn't join her in going up the stairs and sad to see her leave. Sure, he knew she would grow old because she was human but it would've been nice to spend the short time with her. Oh well, this was for the best. He would have to get used to only the company of his species.  
On the threshold of the door was a red triangle and a blue triangle interlocking to form a six pointed star. Charley paused at this, eyeing it warily. She turned to look at Nothing again only to find that he was gone. Swallowing a lump in her throat she came closer to the door, the floor sinking a bit and nearly knocked. She held back at the last moment and pulled back. What if he couldn't help? She'd have to see.  
Gathering her nerves Charley rapped on the door and nearly bolted when she heard a loud, sleepy voice inside yell 'What the fuck?' A few minutes later she heard stumbling from inside and a mumbling voice, rough and golden with beer and sleepiness. Several locks clicked and the door swung open on its rusty hinges.  
Standing there was what Charley thought at first to be a scarecrow. But then she realized that it was a man, a lean tall man. Long tangled hair the color of a raven's wing hung in front of dark eyes, glittering with melancholy and sadness. He wore no shirt, exposing his lean muscled chest, sporting tiny sparse hairs and a trail leading to the belt of his dirty jeans. He looked a bit hollow, as if he had been living off of beer and weed, as if he hadn't noticed his bad five o'clock shadow.  
The man looked startled, obviously not expecting a young woman to be standing there, looking quite terrified. He shifted uneasily, aware of his filthy state, rubbing his scratchy little beard. "Uh, Ghost?" Charley muttered, afraid of being wrong or being in trouble for her affiliation with Nothing. The man blinked at her in surprise then stammered.  
"Erm, no. He-he's inside," he answered a bit dimly as he opened the door for her to enter. With a small smile Charley stepped in, breathing out a bit of her stress. The jumble of décor-obscure, lovely jazz and acid rock posters, religious samplers, a bookshelf with volume after volume of herbal lore cheek by jowl with things like Kerouac, Ellison, Bradbury-met her eyes. Their was an old couch, piled with dirty clothes and a litter of beer cans and bottles. It smelled of the laundry and beer actually with the sweet smell of pancakes baking. Underneath it all was the bittersweet smell of roses and blood.  
"Who was it, Steve?" a far more sweet and gentle voice called from the kitchen. Another man came out from the kitchen, bearing a plate stacked high with banana pancakes. Ghost, Charley supposed, stopped and stared at her with pale blue eyes that seemed like true windows to his soul. He had rather long white gold hair and pale skin. He bore the look of a caring sweet person, looking a bit frail and spacey. But there was a beauty to him, like a white rose, fragile and lovely. He wore a loose gray t-shirt and long black sweats, his bare toes peeping out of his slack pants. Blinking twice his eyes glazed over as he limply let the hand holding the pancakes fall. Luckily Steve was close enough to catch it. Charley gave a gasp as the plate fell, and looked on in concern. Had she done anything wrong? Steve merely rolled his eyes and set the plate down on the table. Ghost swayed a bit, his eyes seeing nothing except a horrid image from the girls mind.  
A morgue, cold, bright and sterilized. There, lined up in front of the metal drawers, filled with deceased corpses waiting for burial, were four carts, half hidden under plastic sheets. Ghost felt himself in Charley's body as she walked toward the carts, legs shaking and heart clenching, tears already streaming. Coming upon the first cart he reached out and lightly touched the sheet, causing it to slip off the body. The body's lips were stretched thin over teeth like chips of ivory. A half dried trickle of blood ran from the corner of the mouth. The organs were withered like dried, gray water skins, hanging from a hollow ribcage, visible through the transparent skin. Thin sparse hair the color of fire clung weakly to the dried scalp. The eyes were too dried and shrunken to tell the color. But he could tell that it was a young girl. Sister, the thought rang in his head. A bloody murder scream erupted from her throat.  
When Ghost came to from the vision Steve and Charley were staring, the latter very worried. He took a shaky deep breath and blew it out, leaning on the wall, pressing his forehead to the plaster.  
"Charley…" The girl jumped at the mention of her name. How had he known that? What the hell? Who was this guy? Steve looked on, a bit amused but concerned for his friend. These two seemed to share a great love that Charley couldn't fathom. "You've seen them, haven't you? The twins?" Ghost continued weakly, as if saying all of this made him sick, weary. She eyed him warily, her chocolate eyes switching now and again to Steve. Slowly she nodded sadly.  
"Yeah, I have. They killed my family. A friend of yours, Nothing, said you could help me," She answered in a very melancholic way. Something in this house made her remember things, things she thought she had forgotten. Things from when she was happy, before the divorce and the mysterious disappearance of her father. Her little sister and brother, her world, the only people that kept her life sane. Her mother she couldn't stand, her hypocrite, judgmental mother. Father? Oh, he was a drug addict and a seller. He disappeared after leaving to a sale. But her siblings, her life, were the only things she kept going for, kept care of. And they were gone…all gone. Charley didn't realize that Steve had begun fuming at the name of Nothing or that Ghost had sat at the table and was now staring dimly at the wall, watching her memories as they flew through her mind. All she knew was that all that forgotten joys and the realization that it was all gone once again hit her. Sadness gripped her heart even though Ghost's soothing mind tried to calm her.  
Before she knew it the girl fainted and crumbled to the ground. 


End file.
